Steel And Sorrow (Book 2)

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Steel And Sorrow (Book 2) Page 32

by Joshua P. Simon


  Charu opened the pouch and dumped the contents into his hand. A slender delicate finger fell into it. A simple piece of blue cloth had been tied around it at the base, just below a thin gold band.

  His chest tightened, and it became hard to breath. He stepped toward a nearby pole to steady himself.

  “I’m sorry,” said Gidan in a shaky voice. “There were five men protecting her. All dead.”

  “Five obviously wasn’t enough,” said Charu, staring at the finger. Melat’s beautiful hand would be forever scarred. “I thought she would be safer in the city. I never should have let her out of my sight,” he muttered.

  Charu swallowed back the emotions coming up from his stomach. He removed the ring and placed it in his pocket. The finger he handed back to Gidan.

  “Alert the camp. We attack immediately,” said Charu.

  “In the dark? I know you’re upset, but this is what Tobin wants you to do.”

  “Then he succeeded. Now go.” Charu stood in the gloom for a moment. He looked at the ring again and moved it to a string around his neck. He put the string under his shirt and gathered his armor together, doing his best to fight back the tears trying to spill from his eyes.

  * * *

  Tobin didn’t hear Walor come in. “Warleader. Charu is assembling his men in the dark as you suspected he might do. I have our forces readying to meet him.”

  Tobin didn’t answer. He continued to stare blankly at the woman lying on his bedroll. He had been rough with her, far more than he intended, punching her into unconsciousness when she began to whimper. Her begging had become too much. Hours later and he could still not explain his actions.

  What’s happened to me? I don’t even know myself anymore.

  “Is she why Charu is doing this?” asked Walor.

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  It was only then that Tobin realized he sat naked on a chair across from the unclothed woman.

  “Isn’t it obvious,” he answered, voice dripping in sarcasm. “I’ve become the son my father always wanted, crueler even than Kaz who only allowed things to happen, but never participated.”

  Tobin waited for Walor’s ridicule. A hand rested on his shoulder. “Soyjid did something to you. Don’t blame yourself. Blame Soyjid. You aren’t thinking clearly. You were caught up in the moment. Nothing more.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Trust me. The war will end today. Nachun will help you. And then it’s just a matter of putting this all behind you.”

  Tobin wanted to believe Walor, but he doubted he’d ever be able to put the evening behind him or the hundreds of other nightmares that plagued him.

  * * *

  Charu changed his tactics completely from what he had originally planned. Tobin would be ready for him so he couldn’t expect to catch the man by surprise. He also knew that Melat’s life was one of convenience and at any moment Tobin could kill her if he hadn’t already. Charu no longer had the patience for a prolonged battle strategy, one that would lessen the deaths of his Red Mountain Clan warriors. He moved his best men to the front lines. He did not have the time to continue to expend the Green Forest Clan warriors.

  In the increasing light of the false dawn, Charu lead those front lines, unsurprised to see the Blue Island Clan already waiting for him. The arrogance in their opponent’s stance only fueled his hatred. He shouted a war cry that spread throughout his men until each man screamed in unison with him.

  They rushed the enemy.

  Charu would not stand back and command from a distance. He would make each man in his way pay as though they had been the one to harm Melat.

  Charu slammed into the enemy’s ranks. Entrails snaked out from the stomach of the first man he killed. His blade sank into the side of another. Charu hacked and slashed his way forward as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and the smell of shattered bowels infiltrated his nostrils.

  Despite the maelstrom of bodies, Melat remained ever at the center of his thoughts.

  * * *

  “Well Tobin, you definitely got Charu’s attention,” muttered Nareash as he watched the epic clash of men. Where the day before, two expert commanders had deftly handled each move of their armies with care and precision, today had brought a savagery pulled from each man’s most feral instincts.

  “Did you say something, Nachun?”

  Nareash blinked and looked down at the shaman. “No. Is everyone in position?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then hurry and take your place. Don’t you feel it?”

  The shaman looked at him confused.

  Nareash scowled as he looked at the gray morning sky darkening once again. Storm clouds had rolled in with little warning. “Of course you don’t. It’s a wonder Tobin hadn’t suffered greater losses before I returned. Now, go,” he snapped.

  The shaman hurried off.

  One Above, what I wouldn’t give for even a handful of yellow-robed mages from Estul Island. Amcaro had his faults, but I can’t deny his ability to teach the most basic skills.

  Nareash felt an intense change in the air, a cool breeze that even the Blue Island Clan shamans noticed. They raised their hands to ready themselves. A moment later, a massive burst of lightning traveled toward the center of the Blue Island Clan ranks, illuminating the battlefield in a burst of white light.

  The Blue Island Clan shamans awkwardly deflected the strike, but could not recover to fully deflect the second and Nareash had to act quickly, aiding them even though it went against Tobin’s wishes not to directly interfere.

  “Pay attention!” Nareash yelled during the brief reprieve. “If one comes so close to hitting our forces again, I will personally kill each one whose concentration breaks!”

  The shamans bowed their head in submission and he saw a renewed determination. They blocked the next two strikes followed by several smaller attacks.

  Better.

  * * *

  Tobin thought he had a grip on his emotions after his brief discussion with Walor. However, the hum of battle slowly began to eat away at his sanity. The colliding forces, clashing wills, and guttural screams increased his pulse at such a rate that the pounding blood in his ears drowned out any voice of reason. With each breath, he tried to calm himself, but the fear and excitement only increased his inability to think clearly.

  He knew Charu would come at him hard. It only made sense given what he had done to Melat. However, he did not expect Charu’s men to fight as fiercely as they did now.

  His front ranks are now entirely made up of the Red Mountain Clan. Does he actually think they can defeat my men?

  Tobin hurriedly scanned the thin line that divided the blue and red. He knew Charu would be there because at one time Tobin would have likely done the same for Odala.

  A brief moment of sorrow consumed him, dulling his rage until several brilliant flashes of lightning illuminated the battlefield. He located Charu’s helm among the men. The warchief fought hard and killed two Kifzo in as many breaths. Tobin clenched his jaw and wheeled around.

  “Bring her here!” he yelled.

  Two men carried Melat. She was conscious, but obviously her wits were not her own as she rocked on her feet, oblivious to the noise around her.

  He eyed the shaman next to him. “Make my voice heard.”

  “Yes, Warleader.”

  Tobin felt a tingling in his throat. “Charu! Charu, do you hear me?”

  Heads turned his way, including Charu’s.

  Tobin continued, the words falling out of his mouth without thinking. “Because of your deception, you forced me into destroying something I cared for. It’s only fitting that I destroy something of yours.” He yanked Melat up next to him. He kissed the woman as his dagger slammed into her chest. He felt the impact break ribs. He pulled out the dagger and blood spurted out in an arcing stream. Melat collapsed to the ground. “Now, what will you do?”

  Charu raised his head back and his mouth opened. Even without a shaman amp
lifying the man’s voice, Tobin heard the pain in his scream. Charu’s sword swung in wide sweeping motions. His men rallied behind their warchief as they tried to carve their way toward Tobin.

  “Give him a path to his death!” Tobin called out one last time before jumping down among his men.

  * * *

  “No!” cried Charu to the sky. Deep down he knew it was likely that she would die, but that didn’t make it any easier to witness her death. He felt helpless.

  And he kissed her.

  His sword came down, snapping the blade of the man in front of him. Then it was as if his men joined him in his pain. They surged forward as one, putting the Blue Clan warriors on their heels.

  A victory would mean nothing to him now. Only Tobin’s death mattered.

  Tobin’s voice echoed out again, but Charu did not listen. He only wanted revenge.

  A small path opened up among the enemy’s forces. Tobin strode forward with sword drawn. The Kifzo moved with the grace of a mountain lion, and up close he saw the power in the man. Yet, none of those things deterred him.

  He sprinted toward the focus of his hate. They slammed into each other with a terrible force. Running on pure hate, Charu slashed and stabbed. With anger coursing through his veins, he parried each of Tobin’s counters with ease.

  He knew he would win.

  Tobin’s blade slipped and Charu saw his opening. He twisted around the failed strike and slashed upward only to find that Tobin had disappeared. He gasped as his gut spasmed in lancing pain. Tobin stepped into view, wearing a smile. He spoke in a whisper, words meant only for him.

  “You weren’t even a challenge. What could she have possibly seen in you? At least she knew a real warrior before she died. How does it feel to fail so completely?”

  The blade glided up Charu’s torso, choking off his response.

  * * *

  Nareash had watched Tobin’s spectacle with interest.

  One Above, I hope I wasn’t so melodramatic when I confronted Amcaro.

  He couldn’t see the rest of the details that transpired after Tobin jumped down into battle, but from the outcry among the Red Mountain Clan and the cheering from the Blue Island Clan Nareash knew that Tobin had killed Charu. He expected the enemy’s forces to fall apart as the Yellow Plain Clan did after Tobin had killed Sunul. However, the death of Charu did little to dampen the resolve of the enemy, if anything it may have strengthened it.

  They know what happened to the Yellow Plain Clan and they’ve seen what Tobin and his army is capable of. Why would they roll over now?

  Though Nareash knew the Blue Island Clan would eventually win he could not ignore the costs of victory. If he let things continue as they were, it would be harder for him to accomplish his own goals.

  He calmed himself and narrowed his focus on the enemy’s lines. He had never attempted a spell over so large a group before, but it would be the easiest way to ensure a victory for Tobin without anyone realizing he had a hand in the outcome.

  Reaching out with his mind, he felt the hate, the rage, and the resolve of the enemy’s men. Underlying those emotions he felt their fear as well. He dampened all other feelings except fear until it swelled into doubt and then panic. The enemy lines buckled and the Blue Island Clan pushed forward.

  Nareash held the spell as the slaughter began. The outer ranks of the Green Forest Clan and Red Mountain Clan peeled away. Some retreating to Feruse where they hoped to find refuge in the Green Forest Clan’s capital. Others, made their way into the trees, knowing the city could not hold out.

  Nareash released the spell and let momentum do the rest. His head felt light which he expected, but a sense of pride rose in his chest. He knew that no one, not even Amcaro, had attempted to impose their will on so many at once before.

  He headed back to camp with the remainder of the battle a formality.

  Chapter 29

  Tobin waited in the center of Feruse, on the steps of the city’s council building, as members of the Green Forest Clan’s governing body pledged their loyalty to him. Part of his army filled out the crowd watching the spectacle while Walor led the rest to hunt down those who had fled at the battle’s conclusion.

  The more affluent members of the Green Forest Clan congregated on the council building’s steps. They wore heavy expressions while listening to one of their own speak.

  Jolnan had surrendered the Green Forest Clan’s capital as a representative of Feruse’s populace. The bald man sought to advise Tobin on how best to transition the Green Clan over to his rule while also culling the remainder of the Red Mountain Clan army. The councilor completed his long-winded speech and faced Tobin. “I hope you found my words satisfactory,” he said in a low voice.

  “It could have been said simpler. You enjoy the sound of your own voice.”

  Jolnan frowned. “I apologize, Warleader.”

  Tobin raised a hand to silence the man. He stepped forward and gestured for Jolnan to follow him as he addressed the crowd. “Your councilman has a way with words, yet lost in his self-indulgent rambling is the meaning behind what I asked him to explain.” He paused. “You will all submit yourselves to me as your ruler.” He pointed to a pile of burning wood and hot metal as his men destroyed the Green Forest Clan’s armor and weapons. “Anyone who does otherwise will be destroyed. The clan will pay a tithe to Juanoq four times a year and the representative I leave behind to govern you will speak with my voice. That representative was supposed to be Jolnan, but I see he is a poor choice. He thinks he can persuade me with his silver tongue. He’s wrong.” Tobin unsheathed his dagger and drove it into the gut of the councilman. Jolnan fell over, clutching his stomach. Tobin pointed randomly to another councilman. “What’s your name?”

  “H-Hitat,” the man stuttered.

  “Hitat is your new representative. Is that clear?”

  The crowd took a knee and bowed their heads.

  * * *

  Nareash examined the deep red walls of the room while waiting for Tobin to return from his rounds of the city. He admired the craftsmanship, but not enough to find the place memorable. Juanoq had been the only inhabited city in Hesh to truly impress the High Mage since his arrival.

  Bazraki was an awful military leader, but he knew how to build a city.

  The door clicked open and Nareash turned.

  Tobin paused at the entrance before shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you, of course. We have things to discuss.”

  Tobin dropped most of his weapons to the floor, keeping only a dagger at his side. “Such as?”

  “When we’ll be returning to Juanoq.”

  Tobin frowned. “I assumed you’d want to travel to Guaronope first and at least exact your revenge on the council of the Red Mountain Clan.”

  “Charu’s dead. That’s good enough for me.”

  Tobin gave Nareash a befuddled look. “Why are you in such a hurry to return home?”

  “Because I have other goals.”

  “Are you going to explain them to me?”

  “I will once we reach Juanoq.”

  Tobin tightened his jaw. “And why can’t you tell me here?”

  “Because I’d feel more comfortable talking about my goals after I’ve looked at your mind. The more I’ve thought about what Soyjid did, the more I think you should be in familiar surroundings when I do so. It will keep you focused.”

  “So there’s a risk something could go wrong?”

  Nareash nodded. “There’s always a risk when dealing with one’s mind.”

  “Then why should I have you look at my mind at all? Since the battle ended, I’ve felt better. More in control of myself.”

  Nareash raised an eyebrow. “You call killing the man who had been your representative to the Green Forest Clan in front of everyone, controlling yourself? Or what about the fifty officers of the Red Mountain Clan you hanged after they pledged their allegiance to you.”

  “I didn’t want to
take the risk they would turn back on their word and stage a revolt.”

  “Sound reasoning. But before I left for Quarnoq you wouldn’t have made that decision.”

  Nareash watched as Tobin paced the room. The High Mage waited as his friend considered his words.

  Tobin rubbed his temples. “We’ll leave in two days.”

  Chapter 30

  The gray sky of evening placed an ominous feeling over the thin forest. Rygar cleared their passage with one of the hidden sentries and the three riders continued into camp. Elyse breathed a long sigh of relief that they had finally made it safely to her army.

  The hard journey had left her saddle-sore. Kroke had forced Rygar into a brutal pace, and a trip she thought would take at least four days only took three.

  Elyse glanced over her shoulder. The ride had done little to ease the tension between her and Kroke. In their brief conversations since the inn, she noticed the mercenary’s voice had lost the hurt tone it previously held, but that was only because Kroke lacked any emotion at all when speaking with her. She had tried to understand more about what caused the rift between them around the campfire each night, but Kroke had quickly changed the subject and said ‘what’s done is done.’ It seemed that no amount of apologizing on her part could help mend the relationship.

  Kroke had claimed the look Elyse wore in the dungeons made him feel inhuman. She could not recall her expression, but she imagined it wasn’t pleasant.

  He was covered in gore. How was I supposed to react? I’m not a soldier. That’s not something I’m accustomed to seeing.

  Rygar rode on ahead to announce her arrival. Elyse felt better knowing Kroke appeared more at ease around the young scout.

  Maybe some time away from me will help. He needs to be around the Hell Patrol again. Maybe it was stupid to think that I could be friends with someone so different.

  She shook her head. Their differences mattered little. After all, she called several other members her friend and despite the differences between her and the others, she couldn’t wait to see all of them.

 

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